Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1887-11-12
AUNT HANNAH.


kind or unjust, but sympathy was a
quality utterly wanting in his composition,
and if he was Just and fair towards Others
what on earth could others want more, in
Heavens name? he would ask impatiently
NV other brothers and sisters were all
married and scattered over the world, and
Roberts eldest children were but few
years younger than myself, the youngest OF
their fathers generation. For some years
l lived on in the dear old home and strove
to be of what use could. No one scrupled
to make use of me, / am bound to say, and
by degrees the family motto seemed to be,
-" Aunt Hannah will do it. She won't
mind"
Did she mind? Sometimes think she
did.
The young ones were grown up, and to
them my few additional years constituted,
if not old age, at least advanced middle
age. Little did they think, while their
nimble feet whirled to Aunt Hannah's
playing q could play, and for many sea-
sons threw my heart into doing my best
for their dance music), little did they
think, | say how my own shoes were
twitching under the piano with longing
to be given a chance of turn myself. One
night | overheard a slim young guards
boy murmur to my niece:
But say, won't your aunt be tired,
playing so long"
"Tired Oh, no; she won't mind" re-
L I IL
l bent my head over thepiano and gulped
down the choke that almost overpowered
me as | steadily marked time in that valse
tune of many memories. Up before the
eyes of my memory rose that evening,
seven years before, upon which my future
life had seemed to hinge. / was twenty
then, and had been for two years an inmate
of my brothers home | was twenty-seven
now, and was still considered too young to
have home of my own by my elder rela-
tions, too old for young lady amusements
by the younger generation. So steadily
played on, and my thoughts foated away
backward to that evening | have limited at
| saw once more small, dark-haired girl,
with hazel eyes, and PARKWAY look in
them, and over her bent a broad-shoul-
dered, curly-headed young giant, whose
voice trembled as he said: God bless you,
darling little Hannah l will come to-mor-
row and see Robert and you"
But oh, Mike, Mike, why did you never
come ? never, never, and the next thing /
heard was that you had gone to India the
following week, and the year after | heard
that you were married. And oh, what had
l done, what had l done, to deserve such
blow as this? Speak to Robert, dare not.
What could he think of a girl who had
admitted she loved some one, when the
some one had too clearly not wished for
her love?
Henceforward 1 fought my battle alone.
and subsidized into the long-suffering, placid
Aunt Hannah, who was supposed not to
mind" the dreary bits of employment
which all the others shirked.
Just when | had struck q my rich old
godmother died, and to MY surprise left
to me a handsome slice of her fortune.
coupling with it the command that |
should take her name in place of my own.
From Hannah Grey became, therefore,
straightway, Hannah Sinclair. With my
new name | furthermore asserted my indie
pendence, and set up for myself little
house in London. My dear old nurse took
the lead in my household, and the first
night that | established myself by my own
fireside, and started as a free, lone woman,
/ laid my head on her knees and cried as
if my heart would break. Ailsie asked no
questions, but s:roked my head in silence.
Some people are blessed with an instinct
i've sympathy and tact. My dear old
Ailsie was one of them. We never once
alluded to that evening in al the long
years we spent together, but somehow /
think she had grasped more than | ever
guessed.
Aunt Hannah" said Bobby one day. as
he rushed in laden with an enormous
hamper, "you won't mind this standing
iust while Pm having luncheon, will Won :?
It's only badger fellow has given me
to take home It's awfully jolly if you'd
like to have it out"
No; thanks" l answered, with my
pocket-handkerchief to my nose; eve can
stand the hamper down in the area. 1t
is not exactly sweet, you know, Bobby
mot sweet Why, it's only badger,
and | can't stay long, because my train
goes at three, don't you know %
But where's Tim?' ] asked, looking
beyond him to the empty hanson.
sob by the by, / forgot" he answered
promptly; "Tim's sickening for the
measles, they think, so mother thought
he had better not go home but as thev
won't keep him at old Blazers" he con-
tinued, as he flung himself cheerily into
an armchair in the sitting-room, q he is
to follow by the next train, and mother
wrote that she was sure you wouldn't mind
if he came straight to you; but was lust
to ask you, don't you know" Here burst
out laughing, and Bobby looked critically
but approvingly at me, with both hands
on his knees.
1 say, Aunt Hannah" he blurted out,
/" am never sure about you. Sometimes
l think you are seventy, and sometimes
you look seventeen-that's what you look
now. don't believe you're half as old
maidish as the girls think you"
"Thank YOU. Bobbv.v | said. kissing